A Light in the Dark (Or: I Punched a Wall and I Liked It)
by LuciHara
Summary: Bakura is sent back to the shadows after losing to Yami Marik during BC. Ryou accidentally opens a portal, summons a god, and tries to save his other half. May continue the story if the interest is there, but I feel like it stands as is quite well. Mild hint of tendershipping fluff, but nothing explicit (again, maybe in later chapters). Rated M for some strong language here and the
1. The One Where He Counts His Limbs

**Author note:** I wrote this on a whim. It's how I'd like to imagine Bakura's return after losing to Yami Marik during Battle City. There's no actual mention of what transpired during or immediately following that particular duel. And as of right now, there are no lemons. There's a hint of tendershipping fluff, but that's about it so far. I haven't decided whether to continue the story past the second chapter, or if it's sufficient as is. So please, read and review and share your opinions on that. Also, as I said, written on a whim, so I basically Seto Freaking Kaiba'd some bits because screw the rules, I have money. I don't really have money, but screw the rules anyway. So yeah, rated M for a bit of language, just to be safe. That should pretty much cover it, I think.

* * *

It was dark. Had it always been this dark? Sure, shadow games had a certain darkness to them; but this was a different kind of dark. It was the all-consuming, can't-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face kind of dark here. He could hear voices, faint and unintelligible. Were they coming for him? Or were they also souls that had found themselves trapped in the black expanse of never ending nothingness?

How long had he been here? A day? A week? A year? There was no way to know for sure. Time was meaningless. He was dead. He'd been sent back to the shadows from whence he came. It didn't occur to him to be scared, however; hadn't he always been a part of the shadows?

So instead, he opted to sit and think. His memories were intact, so that was a bonus. He had to think of a way to get out of here and back to the ring and his doormat of a host. Sure, the kid was scrawny and timid, but just made it easier for him to control the boy and bend him to his will.

As he sat in the solitude of the blackness around him, he found that he could force a little bit of light from the palm of his hand. Even at their darkest, the shadows couldn't exist without a hint of light. He could make out the outlines of faces and bodies of almost-ghosts; or were they demons? It didn't matter. The faces swam and contorted, seeming to wail as they past by him, their arms and fingers reaching for him but dissipating into mist before making contact.

He watched the spectacle before him a bit longer, finally growing bored with the endless sea of tortured souls. Soon his eyelids felt heavy and, try as he might, he couldn't fight the urge to sleep.

He wasn't sure how long he had slept; it didn't provide him with any more energy. The shadows seemed to drain the strength from every limb in his body. Did he even have a body? Arms, legs, hands, fingers, torso, face; it all felt like it was there. But it could've easily been his mind trying to cope with the fact that he no longer existed in the human world, for the second time.

Lost in the process of taking inventory of himself, he didn't even notice the bright, almost blinding, light that suddenly erupted through the pitch black of this particular section of hell. He also failed to see the hand reaching toward him, straining to touch him. It wasn't until he heard a voice, a painfully familiar voice, cry out his name in desperation, that he finally turned to look behind him.

Everything he thought he knew about life and the afterlife and the abilities of mere mortals crumbled before his eyes as a milky white hand attached to an equally pale arm presented itself to him, while that same voice urged him to grab on. A flash of white light exploded across his vision and he hit the ground with a thud. He tried to blink the spots from his eyes before glancing around to see that he was...in the bathroom? What the hell? He felt something squirm beneath him, and as he looked down, he found the source of the voice.


	2. The One Where Ryou Summons a God

**Author note:**

This one is a bit longer than the first chapter. Rated M for some language. I chuckled a bit while writing this one, so hopefully you'll find it entertaining as well. And once again, screw the rules because Seto Freaking Kaiba said so.

I do not own YGO or YGOTAS, in case you didn't already know.

* * *

Ryou. The only word he could form in that moment was the name of the boy who had served as his host; the boy he had used for his own means to an end; the boy who cowered at the very sound of his voice and had begged him to just leave him and his friends alone. He had never actually called him by his name, but that was the only thing he could focus on right now. One word. One name. One boy. And now that boy was wriggling underneath him, in a desperate bid to free himself.

"Ryou?," he spoke, barely a whisper, as if the word had caught in his throat.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. How the hell did the quiet, passive little human manage to yank him out of there? What had happened in his absence?

As he stared into the eyes of his host (was he still his host? He had a body now; a more or less replica of his host's, but a body all the same), he saw at least a dozen different emotions flash across his features. Fear, bewilderment, surprise; possibly even joy? That one was unexpected, to say the least.

"Um...hi Bakura," his voice sounding unsure as he also tried to figure out exactly what had transpired.

Realizing the awkward position they were in, Bakura quickly jumped up, looking like a deer in headlights for a moment before composing himself. He reached his hand out to help the smaller boy to his feet.

As he gathered his thoughts, he spoke again.

"How in almighty hell did you...?!," he wasn't even sure where to start.

"You're human! You're...you're...YOU! How did you, of all people, manage to do THAT?!"

He honestly wasn't even sure exactly what THAT was, but surely his little host couldn't have done it on his own.

"Nice to see you, too...asshole," Ryou replied, adding the insult on almost as an afterthought. He stood as he spoke, brushing at his arms and shoulders, as if trying to dust off any lingering shadows or spirits, while watching his other half cautiously, waiting to see how he'd react to being called such a name.

Bakura laughed then. He couldn't help it. The little shit had grown some semblance of a spine! Remarkable! He laughed until he was pretty sure he looked more crazed than normal. Red-faced and breathless, he finally regained control.

"What I meant was, humans aren't typically known for their necromancy. Using a Sennen item to summon a Yami no Game, sure; provided they can master the shadow magic involved. But this? This wasn't something I expected, especially from you. I never taught you how to properly use the ring. I was...surprised, for lack of a better word."

"Oh...," was all Ryou could bring himself to say upon reply.

"And also...um...I guess I owe you a 'thank you' or something."

"Any time, Yami," he said it so flatly, as if it happened every day. Bakura couldn't help but start cackling again.

Walking to the living room to sit down, Ryou was more than a little surprised that Bakura plopped down next to him, as if he hadn't tried to kill the little host numerous times in the past. But the animosity he normally felt through their mind link was strangely absent. Instead, all he felt was a wave of gratitude, or what he assumed was gratitude. He'd never actually felt any emotions other than seething rage from his other half.

"So, I need to know what happened. How did you even find me?"

Ryou thought for a moment, trying to find a way to explain everything. Unfortunately, everything sort of happened in splintered moments and flashes of memories. The moment Bakura's soul was ripped from his. The moment he collapsed under the unbearable pain of being split in two. The moment he felt that tiny speck of darkness, presumably left over from Bakura's presence, start to grow and morph into something larger and more intense. The moment he snapped at the man responsible for his loss. The moment he then snapped at his "friends", telling them to politely go fuck themselves. The moment he suddenly felt more alone and hopeless than he ever had before. The moment he tried to punch the bathroom wall in an effort to dull the emotional ache with a physical one. The moment his hand instead collided with the cold nothingness of the shadows. The moment he saw his darker half, presumably counting his limbs? That part was a little weird, truth be told. He's never known Bakura to be that out of sorts; not even when the spirit of the ring had used his body for the purpose of drinking heavily had he ever looked so...unsure of himself?

"Wait...back up. You mean to tell me you tried to punch the wall and instead PUNCHED A FUCKING HOLE THROUGH TO ANOTHER PLANE OF EXISTENCE?!", Bakura couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Not only that, but you then proceeded to unceremoniously yank me back into the realm of the living?"

"Yeah. Uh...pretty much. Yeah."

"Holy Ra. Osiris is going to be pissed. You can't just go pulling souls out of literal hell like you're pulling cream puffs out of the freezer section at the market, Yadonushi!"

Ryou shrank back slightly at Bakura's shouting, waiting patiently for the chance to properly explain how he'd managed such a feat.

"I don't even know what to say."

"Good. Then maybe you can be quiet long enough for me to actually tell you how it all happened," Ryou said, trying not to let his frustration show.

"Fine," Bakura sighed, sinking into the couch, not even bothering to acknowledge the obstinance of his lighter half, "get on with it then."

"So anyway, I was getting dressed after my shower. But when I looked in the mirror, I didn't...I didn't look like...me. I saw your eyes looking back at me. I thought I had more or less accepted that you were gone for good and the pain of only having one half of a whole soul was just something I would have to learn to live with."

Bakura looked at him blankly, as if bored out of his ever-loving mind. But Ryou ignored it as best he could and continued.

"But when I saw YOUR eyes instead of my own, I don't know. It was like something in me snapped. It felt like the little bit of light left in me had collapsed in on itself like a dying star about to implode into an angry black hole. I was no longer sure which one of us was staring back at me from the mirror. I punched the wall next to it, but realized in an instant that my hand wasn't throbbing from the impact. It was...cold? That's the only way I can really describe it. Just cold. And then...," he paused, trying to find the words to properly convey the exchange that occurred next.

"Then?," Bakura urged impatiently.

"Then, I looked up at my hand and couldn't believe what I was seeing. I saw you. I saw you sitting on the ground, acting as if you were trying to make sure all your body parts were still there. And I saw movement in the shadows around you. But when I first reached for you, something blocked my hand."

Bakura was now sitting up, listening intently to the younger boy next to him.

"I shouted for whatever it was to let me through. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, Osiris was standing in my bathroom."

Bakura gawked.

"He...he what?!"

"Yep. He stood there for a moment and then asked what my business was with the man in the shadows."

"You didn't do something stupid like barter your soul or something, did you? Because that's my soul too, ya know."

Ryou let out an exasperated sigh. Bakura obviously assumed he was idiot.

"No. I didn't barter my- our - soul. I simply told him the truth."

"Oh? And what might that have been? That I was a 3,000 year old Ancient Egyptian thief, hellbent on destroying the nameless pharaoh in an attempt to avenge the destruction of my entire village? Or that I was some pissed off spirit that resided in your Sennen ring and that I was unfashionably late for your daily asskicking?"

Ryou looked down at his hand and shook his head slightly.

"Well?! What was it?! What did you tell him, landlord?!"

"The only truth I know, Bakura."

"Which is?"

"That you are the other half of my soul and that you were ripped away from me without my consent."

Bakura looked at him skeptically.

"And he was just...like...satisfied with that?," Bakura stated, not believing what he was hearing.

"Uh...yeah...I guess so. He let me through after that. And then I grabbed your hand and pulled you through and here you are."

Bakura sat back, mouth agape at what his little host managed to do. He found a way to open a portal to hell, peacefully convince Osiris to let him retrieve his other half, bring him back to life (with a body, no less!), and then close that portal; and yet, the boy in front of him had absolutely no idea how he made it happen. He didn't even know how to make the artifact around his neck work properly. But here he was, calm as could be, acting like standing before an Egyptian god in a bid to release a soul (or half a soul. Whatever.) was no big deal. Any other mortal might have collapsed at the very thought of having to cross paths with the notorious god of the underworld.

"So that's it then? Just like that?"

"Yeah, that about sums it up I guess."

Before Ryou even realized what was happening, Bakura picked him up and hugged him, while placing a grateful kiss on the top of his head. But Ryou, being Ryou, just had to push his darker half's buttons; it'd been much to long an absence.

"Oh! I forgot! I might have suggested to him that you'd be more than happy to be his bitch for the next three millennia. He seemed alright with that," Ryou said with a hearty laugh.

"YOU WHAT?!," Bakura yelled, dropping the boy unceremoniously onto the floor before storming toward the kitchen.

"Wait! Wait! Bakura! I was only kidding! I wouldn't actually do that!," he said, still stifling a laugh.

Bakura only turned and glared at his little host with a very Ryou-esque pout on his face. Maybe their two soul halves actually had bled a bit into one another. A year ago, Ryou would never have been able to accomplish what he did today; he had used his anger and pain to manipulate the shadows of the underworld. The old Ryou wouldn't have even had the capacity in his soul for that much negative energy. And by that same token, the thief king would never have been caught dead pouting; the old Bakura probably would've just snapped the boy's neck and been done with it. The thought did cross his mind briefly, but it was interrupted by a booming voice that came from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

"Tomb robber, this boy laid his life on the line for you. Your story isn't complete yet. As such, I have allowed you re-entry into the realm of the living. Don't make me regret my decision."

Bakura could almost hear Osiris rubbing his temples in frustration, chiding him like an exasperated parent trying keep a restless child from running rampant through the market.

"Yes, Yes. I hear you."

He visualized the god standing there with his arms crossed, waiting for his to thank him. His presence was still palpable.

"Oh. Right. And thank you. Thank you for everything."

He truly was grateful, even if "thank you" felt awkward on his tongue. No sooner had he said his thanks, the heaviness of the air from the god's presence dissipated. It was just him and his little light now. How could he possibly show his gratitude toward the unlikely ally sharing his soul? He'd think of something. But right now, all he wanted to do was nap; it'd been one hell of a day. Walking into the living room, he saw the younger boy sitting on one end of the couch, reading a book while some miscellaneous black and white movie played on the television. He climbed up and stretched out, laying his head in Ryou's lap. Sensing the exhaustion of his darker half, he gently ran his fingers through the thief's unruly white hair until he felt the even breaths that indicated his Yami had fallen asleep.


End file.
